Misery Loving Company
by Shady Phee
Summary: "The word depression always meant being really sad to me. Boy was I wrong..." Bella's suffers with minor depression out of the blue and is forced to go to a psychologist, Dr. Edward Cullen, by her best friend and roommate Alice. Will Dr. Cullen be able to help Bella or will their growing, unprofessional interest in each other interfere? A/H, A/U
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters, settings or etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended. I claim plot only.

**A/N: **This story was inspired by my own experiences with depression.

Thanks for giving it a try,

Shady

* * *

**Major depressive disorder, or major depression, **is characterized by a combination of symptoms that interfere with a person's ability to work, sleep, study, eat and enjoy once pleasurable activities.

**Minor depression **is characterized by having symptoms for 2 weeks or longer that do not meet full criteria for major depression. Without treatment, people with minor depression are at high risk for developing major depressive disorder.

Some forms of depression are slightly different, or they may develop under unique circumstances. However, not everyone agrees on how to characterize and define these forms of depression.

-NIMH, National Institute of Mental Health

(Bella)

The word depression always meant being really sad to me.

Boy, was I severely wrong.

That sucker's a lot sneakier.

The one thing my parents failed to warn me about was how fragile and complicated your brain was and how it could be your worse enemy. I had a chemical imbalance that threw me into a month long bout of minor depression. I found this out because my best friend, Alice, basically frog marched me to the psychologist.

I wasn't taking baths, staying up all night and sleeping all day long. And when I did contribute to life I was mostly snapping peoples heads off.

Dr. Edward Cullen asked me a lot of personal questions. Starting with my childhood. I told him it was good. No abuse. Parents were divorced but they were amicable. I wasn't miss popular in high school, but I had a decent group of friends and I was always content with that. No major break ups. In fact, I hadn't had a boyfriend in six years, since I broke up with Mike Newton on our high school graduation night.

College was a little more stressful than usual since I was working on my masters in physics now, but I got through it. Plus, it was summertime. Which was odd to the doctor. I think winter was the usual time that SAD—the form of minor depression Dr. Cullen highly suspected I had—affected people. Working part-time at the local science museum a few blocks away from my apartment wasn't stressful in the slightest either.

When he asked me to describe how I felt, I paused for a long time; grabbling for words.

"I feel mostly...the best word I can think of is, detached."

He nodded, writing away on his pad. I wondered for a moment if he was really writing what I just said or a cartoon character or something. I looked at his handsome, downturned face then his coppery, messy hair. He was young. Only five to six years older than me. He wasn't married, no gold ring on his left finger. We were in his office but no pictures of his family were anywhere. Not even a pet.

"Why don't you have any pictures in here?" I found myself asking out loud.

He blinked at me, then smiled. "Because this isn't just my office, it's a place for my patients to feel comfortable and the time I spend here isn't about me."

"Oh." Was all I could say.

"Have you ever felt this way in the past?"

I mulled that over. "Maybe. But I always blamed it on puberty."

"That didn't help, but what about after you had time to adjust to the hormone changes. When you were in high school?"

"Nothing like this ever happened before."

He nodded, jotting down notes again. "So you were mostly happy in high school?"

"For the most part, yea. I had times that everything seemed to be too much."

"Do remember what was too much?"

"Stuff like fights with friends and finals, things like that."

He was cautious asking this next question, "Did you ever have a...body image issue?"

I shrugged. "Well, yea. Who doesn't?"

He smirked. "True. How are you feeling now?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Do you feel detached from this conversation?"

I looked inside myself for a moment, not finding the typical hollowness I'd been carrying with me. "Huh, no." I looked at him curiously. "Why is that?"

"Usually when people intricate with strangers they're more alert."

"Like my adrenaline's pumping or something?"

He smiled brightly. "Exactly. It's a natural body function. You're trying to learn me and gauge how I'll perceive you."

"How do you perceive me?"

He struggled for a moment. "I generally don't answer that question."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter how I feel."

I frowned, chewing my lip. "Why not?"

"Because it only matters how you feel, Isabella."

"Bella, please." I hated being called anything but that. I didn't know why exactly, I just knew I did.

He nodded. "Bella." I liked the sound of my name rolling off his tongue a little too much. I instantly regretted making him call me by my preferred name.

I shook myself slightly. "So, what now? Do I start taking meds?"

His emerald eyes pierced through mine. "That depends."

"On what?"

"If you want to take them."

This really surprised me, I sputtered for a second. "There are other options."

He nodded, smiling slightly. "There are always options."

"Such as?"

"Exercise and vitamin supplements."

I nodded, that seeming easy enough. Though, I'd never stepped foot in a gym before and I still never wouldn't. Outdoors were more intriguing to me. "Anything else?"

He nodded. "More visits here."

"That's doable." I said, since I had insurance, the cost to see him wouldn't eat away at my diminutive bank account.

He blushed a little, my choice of words obviously embarrassing him. I held down a chuckle. Which was shocking since I hadn't felt like laughing in any way shape or form in weeks.

He cleared his throat before he continued. "I'll teach you how to detect when depression is coming on and give you instructions on how to work through it."

"What if none of that works?" I asked in almost a whisper.

Laying down his pad, he leaned closer, eyes sincere and caring. "Then we'll work something out. Do you want to try that or start taking medicine right now? I have to warn you, everyone reacts to medication differently. Some have no problems, others find that the pills only make things worse."

I nodded, already knowing that from commercials. "I'd rather wait before drugging myself up."

Leaning back, he smiled, nodding. "That's perfectly fine." He looked at the clock. "That's all the time we have today. I have a small assignment for you."

I quirked a brow.

"Try to think of something that makes you happy and do it."

I nodded, that sounding simple enough. "Okay."

He stood, offering me his hand.

I stood, clasping his hand to shake it. I froze as I felt the most peculiar feeling. My skin zapped and tingled where our palms were connected. I pulled away, looking at my hand quickly. He most of shocked me. Friction had to be the culprit.

He was blinking fast as is he was clearing his head. He must of felt it too. Opening the door, he lend against it. "After you."

I left the room, walking down the hall to the front desk. Edward followed close behind, quietly.

He smiled at his pretty, blonde receptionist through the window. "Hey, Heidi."

"Hi, Edward." She breathed, looking close to swooning. I couldn't really fault her.

"Please try to work Bella in next week and three more weeks after that."

"I'll do my best." She smiled brightly.

"Thanks." He winked at her before turning to me. "Have a nice day, Bella."

"You too." I murmured.

He smiled on last time before walking away, scratching the back of his head before meeting another patient in the waiting room and leading them to his office. I watched him longer than I intended. When I finally looked to Heidi, she didn't look hostile precisely but she didn't look happy either.

She slid me a piece of paper from under the glass. "I've scheduled you for next Wednesday at 11:15 am and the next three weeks. Dates and times are all on there." Her tone was clipped, brisk. Attitude considerably different towards me than her boss.

"Thanks." I said, folding the paper up.

"You're visit will cost $20 today."

I handed her my debit card, covertly glancing back down the hall. I looked back at Heidi when I saw no sign of Dr. Cullen. After I signed the receipt, I walked out the building, blinking at the sunlight and seeing my therapist's chiseled face the whole walk to my car and the drive home and then well into sleep.


	2. The Power of Music

**A/N: **Hey everyone. I'm getting pretty far in this story, in the middle of chapter 8 actually, with plenty of ideas swirling in my head. YAY! I'm going to try to publish every week (I can't give an exact day because of work.) for now on if writing progress permits.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited this story or me. Y'all have truly inspired me!

Thanks to **jansails **I realized that the song "Landfill" by Daughter just doesn't work with this story, so I changed songs.

Love,

Phee

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the song, "Touch" by Daughter No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

_Music is a therapy. Music moves people. It connects people in ways that no other medium can. It pulls heart strings. It acts as medicine. _

-Macklemore

(Bella)

"How did it go?" Alice asked me once I got home.

I shrugged. "Good."

She frowned at me. "That's it? Just good."

I frowned back, flopping on the couch next to her and stealing some of her popcorn. "Yea, it was good. What else do you want from me?"

She placed the bowl down on the coffee table. "Do you like him?"

"Edwa—Dr. Cullen?"

She nodded, looking at me peculiarly when she caught me almost calling him by his first name.

I swallowed hard. "He's okay. He mostly asked me questions."

"Are you going back?" She asked, watching me carefully.

I nodded. "For the next four weeks."

She smiled, looking relieved. "Good. I'm glad."

"Me too." I mumbled.

She hugged me then. "I love you."

I hugged her back, patting my childhood friend's back and feeling awkward even though I didn't want to. "I love you too."

* * *

Dr. Cullen's assignment was more difficult than I'd imagined.

I enjoyed watching TV, but it didn't make me extremely happy. Internet surfing and social networks didn't hold my interest either. I didn't have hobbies. Not because I didn't have a knack for them, I just never tried any. Not dancing, I didn't have near the coordination needed—i.e. none. Not writing, I liked reading but putting words to paper never pulled at me. Not painting, you just knew if you had that talent and I sure didn't.

I did sing in choir in middle school. My voice was good, but not mind blowing. I decided to give it a go anyways.

I waited until Alice was gone before I started. Sitting on my bed, I listened to songs on YouTube. Searching and searching until I found a band called Daughter. Their sound was haunted and beautiful. One song in particular caught my attention. It was called, "Touch"_. _

I pulled up the lyrics and read them. Taking a sip of water and clearing my throat, I hummed the melody while listening to the song a few more times. When I felt ready I paused the song and started singing slowly, "_Love hunt me down. I can't stand to be so dead behind the eyes. And feed me, spark me up. A creature in my blood stream chews me up." _my voice trembled slightly.

I pulled air through my diaphragm to give my voice more strength. "_So I can feel something. So I can feel something." _My voice was raspy, but I couldn't help that. "_Give me touch. 'Cause I've been missing it. I'm dreaming of strangers. Kissing me in the night. Just so I, just so I...Can feel something. Can feel something. Can feel something. Can feel something." _

I felt myself transcending with the lyrics, my chest becoming lighter and lighter with a feeling of...peace. I ignored the hollowness still lingering in the back ground as I continued singing. "_You steal me away with your eyes and with your mouth. And just take me back to a room in your house and stare at me with the lights off." _

I closed my eyes tightly as images of Dr. Cullen assaulted me. "_To feel something. To feel something. To feel something. To feel something." _

I remembered how he looked while he smiled. How it felt when he touched my hand. How he smelt like fresh linens hanging on a spring day. "_In the night. In the night. In the night. When we touch. In the night. 'Cause I've been lusting it." _

I snapped my eyes open, breathing heavily. I hadn't the slightest idea why Dr. Cullen came to mind durning the song and stayed with me still. I picked about the worst song lyrics to sing because now I was lusting about being touch in the night by my therapist.

Closing the laptop, I stood up and shook myself and all images of Dr. Cullen out of my head.

Needing fresh air, I decided to take a walk at the campus park.

* * *

"How did you do on you're assignment?" Dr. Cullen asked me at our next appointment.

I wiggled a little on the couch, remembering my singing and who popped into my head durning it.

"Good." I mumbled.

He smiled encouragingly. "Would you like to share?"

I clicked my nails together for a moment, debating if I wanted to tell him. "I sang." I admitted quietly.

His eyes widened slightly, but he was still smiling. "That's great. How did it make you feel?"

"Peaceful." I answered immediately.

He titled his head, eyes soft and happy. "That's so good. When was the last time you sang?"

"When I was in middle school? It was a private Catholic school and I sang with the choir durning church."

He blinked for a second. "And you never stayed with it?"

I shook my head.

"Why is that?" He seemed truly curious.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, I'm glad you decided to give it another try."

"Me too." I said sheepishly. "I've never heard myself sing alone."

"And you liked it?"

I nodded, looking away.

"You don't need to be ashamed, Bella."

My eyes shot up to his. "I'm not ashamed. I just didn't want to seem

conceited."

He shook his head. "You don't seem conceited at all. There's nothing wrong with acknowledging you have talent."

I smiled a little. "Okay. Thanks."

He stared at me for a moment then shook his head quickly, smiling back. "Don't mention it. Have you tried exercising?"

I nodded. "I've walked at the park three times for thirty minutes."

"Good. What about vitamins?"

"Two adult gummies per day."

He chuckled a little. "Those are tasty. How have you felt this week?"

I twisted my mouth as I thought about it. "Better. I'm still having trouble sleeping though."

His expression grew concerned. "What's your normal nightly routine?"

"I usually watch TV or read. And I snack a little." I admitted the last grudgingly.

"What kind of snacks?" His voice held no criticism.

"Ice cream or popcorn." I mumbled, feeling red-faced.

He smiled at me. "Those are irresistible. Maybe try eating them earlier in the day. Try not to eat after eight either. If you do, choose lighter things like crackers or veggies. Do you drink wine?"

I was thrown by the question. "Yes." I answered slowly.

"Try a glass or two to relax yourself, maybe with a warm bath with lavender soaps."

"Okay." I answered trying to retain everything he was saying and wishing I'd brought a pad like he had.

"Other things some of my other patients find that help is reading or watching something that's slow and boring."

I smiled at that. "Gotcha."

"If none of that works, you can try melatonin."

"Mela-what-now?"

He chuckled. "It's a chemical in our bodies that induces sleep. They sale vitamins of it at almost every store."

"Can I get addict to it?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

"Wow. Why have I never heard of this?"

"It's not something big drug companies like to advertise. Some doctors don't either."

"So you're the exception?"

He chuckled again, scratching his chin and looking down for moment. "I guess." He looked back at me. "It's not very expensive either. Try one ore two 10 milligrams at first, if that doesn't work let me know. You can call the office anytime, even at night. It will go straight to my personal line if no one picks up." He looked at the clock. "We have a couple of minutes left. Do you want to ask me anything?"

I shook my head.

He smiled. "Okay. I have another assignment for you."

"I'm all ears."

"Try volunteering at any local shelter or charity event."

"Okay."

We stood together, shaking hands again. And again I was zapped. His slacks must've hated his chair or visa-versa.

Once I was seated in my car, I looked down at my hand, wiggling my fingers as muted aftershocks tingled my skin. An uneasy feeling took hold of me and stayed with me for the rest of the day.


End file.
